


082 - Awkward Encounters in a Bar's Storage Cupboard

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17439716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “I was wondering if you could write something about like a first "sexual” encounter with Van (doesn’t have to be sex) where it’s a little awkward but cute?“





	082 - Awkward Encounters in a Bar's Storage Cupboard

Van's laugh broke in the middle. It cracked liked he was sick and losing his voice, but he wasn't. It was just the sound he made whenever he was happy or up to no good. In the store room of the bar he was about to play a show in, both of those things were to transpire. He was happy from the moment he saw you. You had walked into the venue in your Ginger Spice costume and he'd spotted you straight away. He'd followed you around for an entire hour before you told him your name. He introduced himself to your friends and said that Scary Spice had the best outfit. She'd gone to a lot of effort with the hair. They liked him and encouraged you to let him buy you a drink. You did, and it set a precedent. Every time you went to the bar Van would appear and pay, even if you were buying for friends.

As he explained why he wasn't in a 1990s inspired costume for the night (he was going to through in a few covers from the decade into his band's set instead), you watched his hands move through the air. You started to suspect you were on your way to being very fucking drunk when you couldn't stop looking at the ridge of his knuckles. That's when you noticed that laugh, too. "Do you think they have them little glazed cherries?" you asked, hit with a sudden need for something sweet, something to put in your mouth. A smirk grew on his face and he stood up. Hand in hand you followed him through a door marked 'employees only.' Down a cold concrete hallway, he stopped in front of the storeroom.

The door was unlocked, and he felt around for a light switch before walking in. You followed him and pulled the door closed behind you. You sat down on some boxes of beers stacked against a wall. He started to look through the shelves of stock. It didn't take long for him to find a jar of maraschino cherries. He twisted the lid off and handed you the jar. "Do I just use my hands? I'll get all sticky?" you said looking up at him and pouting. The expectation was that he'd turn around and search for some sort of utensil. Instead, he knelt down and pushed your legs apart slightly so he could be closer to you. He rested his elbows on your thighs and pulled a cherry out the jar with his fingers. Red juice ran down his hand and arm. He held the cherry up to you. You looked into his eyes and saw the menace. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He put the cherry on top, you closed your lips around it, and let him pull the stem out. "Another," you ordered. You didn't stick your tongue out the second time, forcing Van's fingers to be perilously close to your lips. "Just one more." For the last time he picked a cherry out of the jar and fed it to you. At the same time as it landed on your tongue, a broom across the room fell to the floor. The sound scared you, and you inhaled, sending the cherry whole down the back of your throat. You started to cough painfully.

"Fuck!" Van said and put the jar aside quickly and pulled you up. "Oh my god please don't fucking die." You started to laugh at his panic, even though you were dying a little bit. "Fuck. If I hit your back will it help? Should I get someone?" He made a decision before finishing his sentence. He slammed his open hand on your back, and miraculously it worked. The cherry flew out of your mouth and you could breathe. "Thank fuck!" he yelled and held his hands on his head watching you finish coughing. You stood up straight and kicked the mutilated cherry under the shelf. Van laughed again.

"I almost died,"

"I know,"

"Dressed as Ginger Spice… in a fucking store room at a seedy bar…"

"With a stranger," he added. You both laughed and he reached out and pulled you in close for a hug. You held on as he swayed side to side. "I'm sorry I almost killed you," he whispered.

"How will you make it up to me?"

He looked around the room. There were bottles of spirits everywhere. He held up a bottle of tequila. It was a horrible idea, but you were on a roll with those. You nodded and he opened the bottle and handed it over. You took a swig, made a face, and handed it back. He drank and you were happy to see his face contort too. He put the bottle on the shelf and turned back to you. He grinned, and you let yourself trust-fall forward. Van caught you and swung you around the room once. You ended with your back against the door and Van pinning you in place.

He leant in and kissed you, and you kissed back. Your teeth clinked together in an uncoordinated collision. You tried to keep kissing, but you laughed into his mouth. He watched you laugh with a smile on his face. "You good?" he asked when you finally calmed down. You nodded, and you were back to being attached at the lips. Van's hands started to move from your hips upwards and soon he was pawing at your cleavage. You tried to not laugh again, but the touching was doing nothing for you and it was distracting. You must have smiled because he broke apart from you entirely and stepped back. "What now?" he asked frustrated, but not angry. He was smiling.

"I, uh," you giggled and he shook his head with lack of understanding, "the touching is not doing a thing for me."

"What do you-"

"Here, just, come," you ordered, pulling him closer. You pushed him to stand in your place against the wall. You kissed him once, hard, then dropped to your knees. Van watched you go down then his head flew back up, like he wasn't allowed to watch you. It took a second to figure out he'd safety pinned the zipper on his jeans up.

"I have, like, this fear of it coming down on stage and-"

"Okay, shhhhh," you said. He nodded and leant back on the wall. He closed his eyes and you focused on the task at hand. He was already hard, and it made it difficult to pull him out of his jeans without hurting him. He flinched when his skin brushed passed the zipper. You almost said sorry. You started working with just your hand, leaving your head resting on his hip bone. You watched your hand make long strokes, then glanced up. Van's eyes were closed, and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. You thought he was as hard as he could be, but when you kissed the very tip as lightly as possible, he swelled up just a bit more. He made a small sound that was half moan half squeak. As you took him in your mouth you kept your eyes opened and watched his hands awkwardly try to find a place to rest. You threaded the fingers of your free hand through his, and left him to figure out what to do with the other. You closed your eyes and kept a steady rhythm of sucking, kissing, licking, pumping.

It was going well, and you could feel him about to cum. Your mouth was lined with pre-cum and it tasted better than you remembered. Then, a knock on the door. You detached immediately and went to roll back onto your feet. You moved too quickly and fell backwards entirely. "Fuck, that was me, I accidentally hit the door," Van said but he spoke so quickly you couldn't process his words for a second. He was already pulling you back to a standing position. You sniggered while maintaining eye contact.

"What?" you asked.

"I hit the door. I…" he tried to repeat but he was breathless with his very-soon-to-be orgasm.

"Okay. Let's just…" you said, and pushed him back against the door again. You couldn’t be bothered going back to your knees, the likelihood of something awkward happening again seemed high. You held the back of his head with one hand, biting on his neck and making it all better with kisses. Your hand held him again, and he shivered under your touch. You found the pace you needed, and he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder. You could hear him mumble swear words and your name under his breath. Then, he went to move you out of the way but had an impaired reaction time. He came, and it left a sticky mess on your thigh. You stood back and looked down. Lucky Ginger Spice wore such short skirts; it maintained it's clean finish.

"Fuck. I'm sorry," he said. You looked up and watched him go red as he put himself back in his jeans. When he was done with the safety pin he looked at you, and you waited. "Oh, right, sorry," he apologised again and looked around for something to help. He ripped open a pack of paper towel and you cleaned himself off your skin. You put the rubbish with the bottle of tequila and still lidless jar of cherries on the shelf. A seedy collection of items that told a story you hoped nobody would read. Van looked at you, still blushing. "I want to say it's normally better than this with me, but I just don't wanna lie to you," he said. You laughed and let him hug you. You stayed connected. "I really wanted you to think I was cool,"

"Oh, Van. You had no chance of that even before this," you joked.

"But you'll, like, go on a proper date with me, yeah?" So hopefully. You smiled and shrugged and moved to the door. As you turned the handle your skin went cold and it felt like your heart stopped working. Van saw you freeze. "What's wrong?" You turned around and looked at him. His rosy cheeks, messy hair, awkward posture.

"The door is locked," you broke the news. His smile faded and he moved to try. Unsurprisingly, the door did not open.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

You sat back down on your chair of boxes of beer bottles. "How long do you think we can live off cherries and tequila?”


End file.
